The Reject's Club

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PART ONE: THE PRESENT

No more broken hearts, We're better off apart, Let's give it a try...

Little Lies by Fleetwood Mac

From:Tango In The Night, 1987.


Chapter One


'Her. Belly. Just. Moved.' Claire Hemmings slapped her husband frantically across the knee, mesmerized by what she had just observed, unable to tear her eyes away from her daughter.

'I said did you see that? Her. Belly. Just. Moved.' Mrs.Hemmings' eyes were now a study in abject fascination, her voice shrill with mounting horror.

Derek Hemmings managed to glance up from the cricket pages long enough to see what all the commotion was about. He was familiar with his wife's liking for creating scenes so at first did not appear all that interested, until he focused his gaze in the same direction as her, taking a moment to comprehend exactly what it was she was trying to tell him. Squinting over his glasses, his facial movements underwent a gamut of emotions, then mirrored her incredulous expression.

Hayley screwed her eyes into their sockets and slunk down into the deep sofa, trying so hard to make herself invisible. She dug her fingernails tightly into the palms of her hands and whispered a silent prayer to whoever was listening: please not now, anytime but now, please do not move. The overly hot room with its pretty peach ambience, floral furniture and abundance of knick-knacks and thingamajigs closed in upon her,rendering her senseless and dizzy.

In out, in out, objects swelled before her eyes then floated away out of focus, dancing in the humid air. It seemed to Hayley that the room was getting tinier and tinier, making her form seem larger and bulkier than it was already.

There was never going to be a right time and her unborn baby seemed to sense it, kicking her so sharply that she jolted upright and gasped.

Hayley opened her eyes, sensing her father's large bulk looming in front of her, invading her personal space. Her personal space had certainly been invaded in the not too distant past and so had her body. By a man. A fertile man.

Her father hauled her upright by the hair and just as quickly slapped her across the face, so hard that she fell back awkwardly and crumpled to the floor. Derek raised his leg and seemed about to kick Hayley,then changed his mind and stood dead still, appalled at his own violence but with his arms still flexing by his sides. He reached forward and instead yanked her to her feet by the arm, his strong hands biting into her flesh and making her wince. 'Get out of this house. Do you hear me you little...?' He held back the word he meant. 'You are not birthing any bastard brat in this house.' He looked on the verge of an apoplectic attack.

Hayley heard him. Loud and clear. She ran from the room and upstairs,taking the steps two at a time and regretting the fact that she'd not bothered to get dressed in her usual uniform of tight jeans and baggy jumper today, clothing that might have withheld her little secret for longer. Instead, she'd spent the day lounging around in her dressing gown. Well it was Sunday, supposed day of rest, which gave her some kind of entitlement to spend all day slobbing around,she thought abstractly.

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